The Heart Holding Mine
by Itanohira
Summary: Seventeen-year-old Lovino's life has always revolved around the small, religious town he lives in, and the ideals that his father - a local preacher - has fed him all his life. Consequently, he is forced to live a quiet, pious life. That is, until the wandering stray, Antonio, visits their quaint little town and changes everything Lovino has ever believed in. / Spamano AU


sorry for all the inaccuracies - I've never gone to church, 'cept for weddings and funerals, so touching on religion is a little out of my league... yet, for some stupid reason, I'm still going after this fic... my mom _did_ go to a Christian private school, so at least I have someone I can talk to about it... though there is no hiding that I am a horrible catholic please HALP

Also: Rating will be bumped up to M later on!

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Lovino's life has always revolved around the small, religious town he lives in, and the ideals that his father - a local preacher - has fed him all his life. Consequently, he is forced to live a quiet, pious life. That is, until the wandering stray, Antonio, visits their quaint little town and changes everything Lovino has ever believed in. / Spamano AU

notes: this AU is around maybe... early 1900s, super late 1800s maybe. idek.

**warning (?)**: heavy(?) religious themes, especially in this first chapter.

_disclaimer_: (insert witty phrase here)

_one - the simple life_

It was a Sunday, which, arguably, was the town's most important day. It was also the day when Lovino had first met _him._

He loved his quiet little town - though boring, for the most part, and sometimes a little _too_ bland - he loved the safety of the town, loved the familiarity of it all. He knew the outside world, outside of his quaint little town, was dangerous - his father had told him so everyday, constantly reminding him during the morning times when he made coffee. It never stopped him from wondering, though, and hoping, that maybe, one day, when he was older, he would be able to visit and experience what life would be like outside - even for a moment.

_The world is a dangerous place_, his father had once said,_ there are appalling people out there; they'll stab you in the back, tear you apart, and laugh in your face right after. _Though Lovino yearned to travel, he knew in his heart that there was no other place in the world Lovino could think of staying at than his home, content to never leave and just stay back with his family.

Despite this, Lovino was never one for long preaches, or scriptures read out in heavy, almost overbearing voices that echoed across the otherwise silent church. But, nevertheless, he was a God-fearing boy - _man_ - dressed in simple, neat clothes - his best ones - and sat obediently in the very front pew next to his little brother, a small boy of nine, Feliciano. Their father, Vincezo Vargas, one of the town's most respected men, was up at the front altar, in a plain white alb that peeked out under his modest green chasuble.

He opened his mouth to speak, and his deep voice rang out, thick in conviction and uplifted in tone. His aged face was solemn, mouth slightly down turned, eyes hard and stern. As he continued on with his sermon, Lovino could not help but notice these features, and think how much of his - and Feliciano's - looks had come from their mother. He did not recognize their father's dark, almost black hair, deep green eyes, or even his father's strong jaw in his own. He was so caught up in his thoughts, that he did not realize the start of the closing prayer, and the hard glare directed at him by his father.

He guessed _that_ was something he inherited from his father.

The Italian quickly ducked his head in religious earnestness, and held his modest wooden rosary between pale fingers. He dared not look up, and he could feel Feliciano squirm slightly beside him. The voices of the other villagers gently droned and continued with the prayer, and Lovino joined with them, voice a soft hum.

"_Guide and direct us in all we do and may we stay..."_

Pink lips opened and closed almost soundlessly; his eyelids fluttered closed. Peace.

_"...Forgive us Father, of all of our sins..."_

His head bowed down, and strands of soft hair gently brushed against his face.

_"...Amen."_

The Sunday service had ended uneventfully, but by the way the eldest Vargas had been eyeing Lovino as everyone left, he knew that he was in for a little more than just strict words. His father had slowly waved him over as the church emptied, leaving the three Vargas' in the spacious area.

"Lovino." His father started off, eyes still looking forward as Lovino made his way to the altar. Lovino avoided his father's stern gaze, and instead appreciated the simple wooden rosary laying innocently on the altar's surface, before his father's throat cleared. Lovino's head snapped up, waiting for what he had to say. "You weren't paying attention this morning." It was not a question, but a hard, clear statement. It brought an embarrassed blush to Lovino's face to have been caught doing such a thing.

"I'm sorry, father." The younger Vargas said, mouth tight, and gaze, down.

"I want you to pick the weeds on the garden around the church as punishment. Think about your moment of mental absence."

Lovino nodded slowly, fists clenched as he waited for his father to dismiss him. "Right now?"

His father gave a weary sigh, before waving him off. As Lovino walked down the aisle and towards the front doors, a bouncy Feliciano passed by him singing _Ave Maria_ at the top of his lungs.

"Feliciano, please," Lovino heard Vincezo ask, before he opened the doors and let it slam shut.

-x-

The day was hot, and blinding sunshine shone down - he could feel his ironed shirt crease and wrinkle as he bent over to pull out the prickly, overgrown weeds. Lovino gave a hard tug on a particularly stubborn one, and let out a small grunt. After some nearly fruitless weed tugging, he straightened up, and his back let out soft, satisfying pops. His hand lifted up to wearily swipe at the sweat gathered on his forehead.

"Damn weed..." He muttered, repeating something his Nonno had said once when he was visiting them at the church. He was careful to not let his father hear the expletive, and looked up at one of the open windows on the side of the church. Seeing nothing, and hearing no rebuke from his father, he bent back down. The Italian tugged again, fingers loosening before they gripped the stem, fingers like a vice grip around the weed. He tugged, pulled, and groaned, but still, nothing. His thin fingers pushed his sleeves up, and grimaced as dirt marred his white shirt.

He tiredly gazed around the garden area, eyes squinting at the numerous amount of weeds populating the area, and glanced to his small pile of already-picked weeds. Lovino sighed, and slowly retreated backwards to the shade provided to one of the decades-old oak trees. He leaned back against the gnarled, woody surface, and contemplated waiting until a breeze would come to finish up the weeding. His legs collapsed underneath him, and Lovino let his eyes close.

The sun wasn't so bad when he was underneath shade.

He plucked out a few blades of grass, letting them collect in his palm before letting them fall back down to the earth. He grimaced at the bright green grass stains on his fingers and slacks, internally groaning about the rebuking he was going to get from Vincezo later.

Green was such an ugly color, Lovino decided. Green was the color chasuble that Vincezo always wore, green was the color of these stupidly _healthy w_eeds and green-

-was the color of the eyes that bore into his.

Screeching, Lovino shot up and backwards, landing none-too-gracefully into the shrubs that fenced the church's lawns. Twigs and leaves blocked his vision and scratched his face and forearms as a bright laughter filled the air.

"Need help?" The voice was deep and friendly, and Lovino answered with an incoherent sputter.

"Wha- who are _you_?!" The other man, - based on his irritating lisp - was most likely a Spaniard; He didn't seem like he was from around here... why would he be here, in this small town?

"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo," He said charmingly. Lovino felt his right eye twitch. Antonio held a tanned hand out to Lovino, but Lovino rejected it, choosing to clumsily get off the bush. After a few embarrassing moments trying to free himself, Lovino finally stood up, brushing leaves and twigs off his clothes in an attempt to hide his blush.

"Did you need help with these weeds?" The man, who looked around his early twenties, gestured to the pathetic pile Lovino had been able to pull, and his other hand was pressed to his mouth, as if to suppress laughter.

"What are you laughing at!" Lovino scowled, and he looked up, feeling his cheeks and ears burn red. Antonio seemed to sober slightly, but was still smiling brilliantly. He took a step towards the Italian, and lifted a large hand to brush behind Lovino's ear. His voice was low, as he said, lightly, "There was a leaf in your hair."

When Antonio's hand pulled back, Lovino could feel it press against his cheek for a moment, and felt that horrifying red stain his face, especially when he had no comeback to make himself feel better about the situation.

Brashly, he punched the Spaniard in the face. "P-Pervert! I don't need your help!" Antonio staggered back, laughing while holding a hand up to his injured cheek. He even had the gall to look vaguely amused!

"You have quite the punch, for such a short person!" Antonio said, and Lovino lifted his aching fist up again, mortified at what the older man was spewing. "Ah, don't punch me again, please." The Spaniard lifted his other hand in mock surrender. This... _imbecile_ made Lovino want to tear his hair out!

Instead of yelling a few choice words, Lovino 'humphed' and ran back into the church to salvage whatever was left of his ego, only to bump into Vincezo and Feliciano. Vincezo cleared his throat in his usual stern manner, eyeing the smears of grass and dirt on Lovino's slacks and sleeves. "You've finished picking the weeds?"

Lovino made a noise in his throat, somewhere between annoyed and stand-offish. "No."

Vincezo raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you heading inside?"

"Because some dumb Spaniard is creeping around outside." Lovino muttered, rubbing at his blush. In the corner of his eye, he could see Feliciano visibly perked up at the thought of making a new friend. When he turned to look back at Vincezo, he was surprised to see the look on his father. Something close to annoyance, caution, and surprise was mixed on Vincezo's face, and Lovino couldn't help but feel as if the look didn't fit his father; nothing surprised Vincezo, and nothing went past him. Not when it came to new comers in the town.

"A Spaniard?" Their father walked out, and looked around. Lovino nodded, to affirm his question, and felt his mood pick up slightly as he waited for Vincezo to start reprimanding Antonio about trespassing. When he heard no shouting, Lovino made a face as he joined his father.

"You should not lie to get out of work, Lovino." Vincezo's voice was stony, and his face was unsmiling, unamused and disappointed by his oldest son's antics.

"I wasn't lying!" Lovino scowled. "There was a Spaniard out here, bothering me! He even told me his name - Anthony or something stupid!"

Vincezo only sighed, and gave him a scathing look. "Lovino, just finish up the weeding, or no supper."

"But-!"

"Lovino!" Vincezo barked, done with Lovino's excuses. "Weed. Now."

Lovino let out a loud groan, annoyed and mad at his father and that smiling, laughing, Spaniard. He pushed past his brother, and wanted to do the same to Vincezo, but wisely went against it, choosing to take out his anger on those green, stubborn weeds. He heard Vincezo and Feliciano walk off, back into the church, secretly jealous that Feliciano always got on their father's good side. He felt something tap his shoulder, interrupting him mid pull on a weed. Lovino stood up straight, surprised enough at the tapping to forget his anger, especially when pain bloomed on the back of his skull at the harsh contact with another body.

He turned around sharply to face the intruder, head throbbing. When he recognized the intruder, Lovino could feel a headache come in.

"You!" The Italian accused, pointing a finger at the Spaniard. "Where were you, earlier?"

The Spaniard laughed again, but this time it was softer, breathier. "The Father of the church seemed pretty scary," A pause. "I didn't want to get caught by him."

"Tell me about it," Lovino muttered, bending over again to weed unsuccessfully. He was turned away from Antonio, and everything was quiet again, so he assumed that Antonio had left him again. _Good riddance_.

What he didn't assume, though, was that Antonio was weeding beside him. Stubborn, and still annoyed, Lovino sent a glare towards him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You looked like you needed help," Antonio said, easily pulling out a weed. Lovino looked over to the other's pile, which was steadily growing. Lovino huffed quietly, but let the man do as he wanted.

-x-

"That wasn't too bad, was it?" Antonio asked, sitting on the grass. Lovino grunted, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Lovino sat on the ground, and watched as Antonio flopped onto the grassy floor. The sun was starting to dip, barely touching the horizon as it coated everything with a gold warmth.

"I guess."

"Hey! I've got an idea!" Antonio jumped up from his position on the floor, and grasped for Lovino's hands, child-like excitement in his eyes. Lovino immediately pulled his hands away, scowling, muttering, and ignoring the way he felt when Antonio's hands had held his own. "Why don't I show you something amazing? Outside of this little town?"

"W-what for?" Lovino asked, interest piqued, and feeling bothered that he actually wanted to go - Vincezo had never let him travel out of town, and he had always wanted to visit what it was like, _outside_.

"Well, I've never taken anyone there before - and I wish I did... it's very beautiful." Antonio looked at him seriously, and Lovino rubbed his cheek, ignoring the way Antonio had just looked at him. As if -

"It's not too far, is it?" Lovino asked, glancing over to the sun. If he stayed out too long, Vincezo would be angry with him. Especially if it was because he had stepped out of the town's borders.

"It's a good half hour away from here," Antonio said, looking off in the direction of the area he wanted to bring Lovino. "Why? Do you need to be getting home?"

"...Yeah," Lovino said softly, turning away from Antonio. "I have to head home." He began to make his way to the church, and gasped when Antonio's larger hand grabbed his slight forearm. When Lovino turned his head back, he was taken aback by the hope brimming in the Spaniard's eyes.

"Will you be here, tomorrow?"

Lovino felt his throat go dry, and he had trouble choking out whatever words he had to say."I... I will." _What was he saying?!_ He meant to reject him, dammit! Not... not agree to meet with him - but the idea of leaving town had been so tempting, and the way Antonio had _looked_ at him - Lovino ignored the blush heating his face up, and ran back to his little sanctuary, in the confines of his small bedroom. He ducked into his covers, practically diving into his sheets in his embarrassment. He should have punched that Spaniard and his stupid handsome face - which was _not_ handsome, forget what he thought earlier.

Lovino was so immersed in his thoughts that he had completely forgot about dinner, and had fallen asleep - he felt too emotionally and physically drained to even think about eating, despite his usual appetite.

He must have been very tired, he would later think the next morning, to dream of such an ugly color like _green_, green like grass stains, green like Vincezo's chasuble, green like annoying, laughing Spaniards.

-x-

Flirty!Antonio is one of my favorites to write, haha. Also, I see a trend in my writing... it seems like what Lovino notices first, when he first meets Antonio, is his green eyes... e v e And this was written in a rush... but I'll edit it later. And I'll probably fix up the pacing of the story because it feels horribly rushed, ahah. And I never thought I'd upload three things within a day! Especially since I almost never upload anything nowadays, haha.

Erm... I kind of wanted Lovino to be more naive, since he's younger and more sheltered... but I don't know if he came across as such. Any thoughts, anyone?

I'd like to think 'your moment of mental absence' can be used correctly here adfjdskfjdsfj- And the closing prayer is actually longer than those three lines hahaha, but I didn't want to put in the entire block.


End file.
